Last revision: 31-01-2024
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🕔09:17 pm
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Under the pitch-black moonless sky, a cat slinked noiselessly through the dark, narrow alleyways.
Dark green eyes flicked left and right, and upon making sure he wasn't followed, Spook squeezed through the unused gutter pipe concealed behind a large, rusting dumpster. He went down on his paws and feet, and slithered through. His fur mopped against the damp, dirty aluminum, sending a shudder down his spine. The pipe twisted downwards into the belly of the ground.
He came out on the other end, and shook his pelt. He straightened up and took in the now-familiar surroundings of the large, abandoned complex.
Several other people were there. A few heads turned, and he was sure he heard snickering - most probably at him. A duo of familiar cats tried to catch his eye – one of them thought it funny to send a vulgar signal his way. It was so commonplace Spook didn't even need to make the effort to ignore them. He stopped seeing them to begin with. He was the outcast; he never fitted into this sinister world, anyway. A world of drugs, hitmen, and inglorious thievery.
This craphole was never going to be his home.
He could never cut himself off from his old life completely, either. He always went back – for only a few moments lest he be discovered, just to see how his old friends were faring. How terrified he had been, when he went back a couple of weeks earlier and didn't find them in the alley, or in any of the spots they usually hung at.
His first thought had been, Oh God G.P did something to them.
He had then run to the home of one of his friends from the cha-cha classes. It was the first time they had seen each other in months. His screaming, over-emotional pal told him they were out of the country – in Italy of all places, in some sort of a healing trip.
"Had ta be –! I heard Top Cat was very sick! Can ya believe it, pops? The Top Cat!"
Spook had wrestled himself out of his friend's overzealous clutches (and flatly refused to put any food or drink in his mouth), and ran out before the neighbors started getting too curious about Besty's excited screaming. He had returned to this place, relieved beyond words, but even lonelier than before.
Lost in his memories, he walked through the vast wall-less space without a glance to a single soul. Everyone was a ghost, there but not really. He only snapped back to reality when the sensitive pads on his feet felt the shock waves - the remnants of an electric shocker still in the air. They came from the basement below, the same basement affectionately called the Chokey Room by Monster, G.P.'s right-hand man.
Someone must be having the time of his life down there, and it was where he was going right now. He strode on, swallowing the lump of self-hatred in his throat. He scratched absently at his right ear. The bandage was getting torn and thready at the edges – he would have to replace it soon.
He made his way to the far back, and turned around a mud brick wall, ignoring the female nincats lounging about near the clunky-looking elevator. He knew better than to engage G.P.'s nincats; spies and assassins of the highest degree.
Down the smelly elevator went. It stopped at the basement with a shudder, and Spook stepped out into the darkened hallway that led to the door of the Chokey Room, left ajar. The green cat didn't have to be a genius to know someone was hanging from the ceiling even before he reached the door – the shadows cast by the lightbulb out onto the hallway walls told a story. He stepped into the room, but couldn't bring himself to immediately look and see who the poor soul was.
"Ya here." a deep voice greeted.
"What did you expect?" replied Spook flatly. He turned to look at his superior, and G.P.'s most trusted friend.
Monster was an enormous cat that lived up to his alias, with short, curly red fur and brown irises that always shone with a dark humor from under his olive-green bowler hat.
Spook could no longer put off looking at the victim hanging by the arms from the ceiling, not when the shadows of his limp form surrounded him from every wall, trapping him inside his own mind that was filled with self-loathing and regret for ever becoming a part of this world. He turned his head around to look up at the poor guy, and his stomach dropped down a bottomless pit.
"Ch..Choo-Choo…"
"No," his superior drawled. "Now he is Girly. We decided it fit 'im better, after his priceless attempt ta fight. See there."
Spook stared in horror at Choo-Choo's paws. The blood had long-dried and turned brown, stuck to his fur like chipped paint. He was unconscious, yet his claws were still out, a few missing.
"Monster..what's the meaning of this?" the green cat demanded, his voice hoarse with terror and disbelief.
"Watch it, Spooky. Girly here woulda died had I let Saber have his fun. I spared 'im. You owe me. Again."
"Why is he here-?"
"Your pal Saber brought him in."
Spook had to fight down the urge to gag on his own tongue. Monster grinned knowingly. He knew full well the effect Saber had on the green cat.
There was something about Saber that absolutely revolted Spook. He was a wild animal – stupid, bloodthirsty and vicious, with his dirty yellow fur, narrow red-rimmed eyes and canines true to his alias. Spook had even heard a rumor that he was a cannibal, had even asked Monster about it, but the large cat never gave him a straight answer.
Despite Saber's appalling nature, Spook found that he wasn't particularly afraid of him – revolted beyond words, but not afraid. Saber was the typical henchman, strong and fast but no brains of his own.
Monster was an entirely different story. Monster scared Spook more than he dared show.
"He came ta Saber this morning, askin' ta join the ranks," the large cat spoke in his calm, deliberate manner. "How cute. Ya never ask Saber for anythin', not if ya wanna live ta tell the tale. Good thin' I arrived when I did, doncha think? If this kit were serious, he shoulda come ta me. But we both know he ain't really here ta serve G.P., don' we Spook?"
Spook just stared back at his 'superior'. Monster was not G.P.'s closest confidante for nothing; he was brawns and brains.
And sometimes, Spook was sure he could read minds.
"I keep reminding ya; if it weren't for me, you'd be far worse off than simply havin' that torn ear. You'd be six feet unda."
How could Spook forget? The memory was seared into his brain, but he knew he would rather have lost his whole ear than G.P. killing-
"Where has Spooky gone?" Monster called in a sing-song voice, "Earth ta Spooky!"
Spook shoved away the unpleasant memory and forced his face into a mask of indifference. But it was impossible. One of his best friends was hanging right there a few feet away. If it weren't for Choo-Choo's shallow, wheezy breaths, indicating that he was still very much alive, Spook didn't think he would've been able to control himself. "Monster, like…just – just tell me why he's here."
"Why do ya care?"
"Wh..."
"Careful, Spooky."
"Like, I don't want 'em involved, dad." Spook chose his words carefully, "It'll cause more problems for me with the boss than I can handle, man. And problems with my last gang, too. They'll be back for blood if he dies."
"Scared of them, or scared for them, Spook?" asked Monster with gleaming eyes.
"Don' insult me. I just don't have the time to put up with 'em. I wanna like, focus on what I'm supposed to do. So can we just get him down and leave him somewhere where they'll find him? Like, alive?"
Monster shrugged, "I don' care. You do it. And when you've left 'im somewhere, make sure you're in front of the Boss by 12. He's assignin' ya."
Spook thought he was doing terrific, pretending his face was a slab of expressionless wood. He then attempted to arrange his face to look mildly curious for some semblance of believability, when his insides were roiling with revulsion at the thought of meeting the slimebag killer again in just two days. Let the milking begin. The bastard probably wanted to try getting information on Top Cat again, or mentally torture him with that...fun little reunion more than a month ago.
But more than all that...Spook hated looking at G.P.
"You're a very bad actor, Spooky."
The green cat's head snapped up.
"Even pampered-Beverley-poochie Tinkerbell can see you're...let's say, a little queasy at meetin' with the Boss?" the wide-toothed grin was really asking to be punched, but Spook knew it would be like punching a brick wall.
"That little inspiring speech about your friends, too...don' try it with 'im. He reads people much better than I do, and he's got ya on his radar since that...clever little act of courage."
"What do you want from me, man?" snapped Spook angrily, a little fearful.
"Nothin. Just telling ya you don't fool no one. I know you're still feelin' for your old gang. I'll keep quiet about it, just because I don' wanna be anywhere close when the Boss decides he hasn't freaked out in a while. Not that he's blind to it either," the cat looked Spook in the eye, "Just stop with the dumb act, it's pissin' everyone off. And get your friend down and dump 'im somewhere, it's fifteen to ten.
"Remember, 12 sharp Spooky. And I'll be waitin' right here."
oOoOoOoOoOo
(Original A/N from 2012: Chapter 2 is up one day early! YEES.
Thank you so much, UraharaSteph and Cupcake, for reading. I'm so happy to meet other T.C fans! Please keep coming back! BTW, what did you think of the movie?)